My Mom Is My Guardian Deity - Chapter 33

"Whoa...."

A gasp slipped out involuntarily. My reckless punch utterly pulverized the house-sized centipede's body. It felt just like being the protagonist in an anime, smashing any foe with a single fist. How could I not be amazed?

But the next moment—

"Whoa...?!"

This time, it wasn't just awe; it was a shout bordering on horror.

⋯ ⋯ ⋯

Endless level-up notifications! If this were a novel, readers would've been like, 'Free word count, you madman.' My mouth twitched upward in sheer delight.

But then—

"Of course."

The situation didn't allow me to grin like some neighborhood idiot.

With the boss monster, the Emperor Centipede, dead, the dungeon closing was inevitable. Normally, I'd hum a tune and wait it out. But...

"Hey!"

My real work was just beginning. Through the thick dust, a black silhouette bellowed and charged at me. The hero-delusion patient.

Good lord. He looked furious enough to draw his spirit sword. His eyes screamed murder.

"I can't forgive you! I really can't forgive you, you bastard! You tricked a hero like me and used me as bait? Get over here! I'll sever your neck right—Guhk?!"

He came closer, so I gave him a solid flick on the forehead. But—

Boom—!

A mere flick sent the hero-delusion patient's body flying into a cliffside.

"I even held back..."

Warrior's Awakening is terrifying....

Anyway. I eyed the spirit sword he'd dropped.

More precisely, the Soul Core embedded in its hilt.

I checked the remaining time, then approached the gruesomely mangled Emperor Centipede. It was reduced to mush, barely recognizable. But its head was distinct enough.

"Just in case..."

Humm—.

Before reaching into its mouth packed with saw-like fangs, I coated my hand in mana. Who knows if those fangs were venomous. That sticky slime on them was definitely deadly poison. Touching it barehanded? Insane. But...

'No reason to hesitate now.'

I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the sharpest fang at the tip.

And instantly—

As feared, a grim message floated up. Dizziness hit, nausea rising.

"Thanks, but... no time to check sponsorships and chug antidotes one by one, Mom."

Gritting my teeth, I yanked out the fang. Sizzle—smoke rose where it met my palm. My skin melted in real time. Good thing I had mana on; otherwise, I'd have screamed on contact.

Thud.

I knelt before the spirit sword like a supplicant, raising the fang high...

Crack—!

I slammed it down on the grip with all my might. As the shock traveled up the fang to my wrist...

"...It works?"

Even gasping from the poison, I couldn't help but grin. Hairline cracks spiderwebbed across the grip.

'My body or other items couldn't touch the spirit sword directly, but... as expected, the Emperor Centipede's fang is the exception.'

Beyond contact—it dealt real damage! Smash the grip and pommel enough, extract the Soul ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Core, and we're done. But...

The time limit was the issue. A whole minute gone just pulling teeth and striking? For real?

But the real despair came next.

"Hey, since when is that a—Guh, urk...!"

Blood spewed from my mouth like it was law.

Ah... wait. Déjà vu. Memories of my regression: dying miserably in unidentified poison fog. The lung-squeezing pain was bad enough, but the mental hit too.

Vision blurred, hand shaking on the fang. 'Damn. The deadly poison is... consciousness fading...'

As my mind frayed, pain dulled but unnatural drowsiness flooded in. Like those Everest survivors in movies, dozing off to death.

"Ah..."

My grip loosened on the fang. Eyelids drooped, vision darkening...

Wham—!

"Ack!"

An energy blob smacked my cheek. Pain so familiar it was comforting. My half-closed eyes snapped open.

"M-Mom..."

It snapped me awake, but I nearly died from neck snap. Anyway, I clung to my fraying sanity.

But clarity brought pain surging back. 'Snap out of it...!'

I swallowed the agony, gritting teeth.

Crack—!

I smashed the fang down desperately. Cracks spread clearer, but smaller than first. My strength waning.

And worse...

Less than a minute left. Double speed timer?! Damn system!

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

'...Just give up?'

I'd cross the Jordan just widening mana circuits. Better forfeit the Soul Core, get Mom's antidote, heal up...

Crack—!

'Crazy nonsense.'

Crack—!

'Flower path in this half-assed state? Dream on.'

Get it together. Poison wracking isn't new. Embrace it.

"As if some trauma will break me...!"

Crack—!

Urk. Blood gushed, but my hand kept moving. Acid burned my esophagus, but ignored.

Crack—!

Crackle—. The hilt was now cracked like a shattered biscuit across its entirety. Instinct screamed: one more hit, and it shatters.

But—

Pop!

"Huh."

Ironically, the fang shattered first. Not just broke—pulverized to dust.

"......"

Too drained to curse, I just blankly spewed blood.

Despair gripped me briefly. Then, trembling, I pushed up from the ground. Vision splintered, body teetering, but I held.

Staggering to the Emperor Centipede's corpse, hazy-minded, I extracted another fang.

Sizzle—flesh cooking on my right hand chilled my ears.

I slumped before the sword again,

and poked the cracked grip with the fang's tip.

Rumble—. The hilt crumbled like a sandcastle, fragments scattering, leaving the Soul Core rolling free.

As I lunged for the Soul Core—

Blinding light filled my vision, cool night air brushing my cheek. Back to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠reality.

But.

"......"

No time to relax. I'd reached for the Soul Core just before closure, but numb from poison, unsure if I grabbed it.

'Please, please...'

Anxiously, I looked at my hands. And chuckled softly.

"...Haha."

Blurry, but certain. The Soul Core was in my grasp.

"Cough!"

Relief shattered as blood fountain from my mouth.

"...Not the time to celebrate."

First, emergency treatment.

"When this kid called me first for once, honestly, I was thrilled. He hasn't shown his face lately. I thought, 'He's finally mature enough to check on me.'"

"Makes sense. Chairman treats him like his own son."

"Yeah... like my own kid. Hyun-sook bore him, but I still see him that way. But..."

Player Association President Lee Tae-ho pinched his brow. His secretary Yoo Soo-yeon offered, "Headache meds?" He shook his head naturally.

"But now I'm thinking: thank God he's not my real son."

"Why?"

"I'd have beaten him to death by now."

Lee Tae-ho glared at the soundly sleeping Jae-min on the bed with fiery eyes.

The Association's top medical facility. Jae-min received VIP care.

"First words on the phone? 'I'm hurt, pick me up. Address...' Am I a Chinese delivery guy?!"

"Chairman, too much anger worsens stress baldness."

"You wanna join him?!"

Veins bulged on his smooth scalp as he roared, but Jae-min slept peacefully. No trace of the blood-puking wreck from dawn.

Thanks to what? "Special care no A-rank could dream of...! All because I favor him—no charge! Ugh... is this right...?"

"You ordered all equipment mobilized."

"Ahem. True, but..."

Top-tier gear healed everything from scratches to near-fatal poison. Cutting-edge medicine unleashed!

But one snag even baffled them.

"Jae-min merits this care, Chairman."

"Because he's Sung Hyun-sook's son, your idol?"

"That's part... but strictly—"

Yoo Soo-yeon trailed off, eyeing a machine by the bed. A giant test tube with hoses to Jae-min's abdomen—his dantian.

The Mana Pack. Massive mana flows via hoses to the dantian, like charging a phone. Blue light when full.

But...

"...he's far beyond 'average A-rank' in my eyes."

The light wasn't blue. Red. Mana depleted.

"......"

Lee Tae-ho fell silent.

'A-rank five-pack worth.' Near infinite supply.

Red light usually means near-empty from prior use.

But now?

"Not a half-used pack, right?"

"We know you'd rage."

"......"

"100% charged packs only. Defect chance: 0%."

Yet red? Lee Tae-ho pondered, scalp hairs standing.

"What the hell does Hwang Jae-min carry inside...?"

Even a full pack drained dry, mana unfulfilled. Circuit volume unimaginable.

Lee Tae-ho thought: 'Talent. Heaven—no, cosmic gift.'

Stats expand circuits, but limits exist. Innate, not trained.

"Mind-blowing in every way..."

A body with vast innate mana circuits. Talent. Blessing.

This sleeping youth: dazzling blessing, overwhelming talent incarnate.

Yoo Soo-yeon asked softly, "Still dislike him playing?"

"You'd like seeing your 'son' hurt? Guts me."

"But," Lee Tae-ho continued, "as guardian."

"As Chairman?"

"Talent the world needs."

Honest, cold, objective.

"Makes me curious."

He brushed Jae-min's hair back. "If he'll surpass his parents someday."

Flick!

Eyes snapped open as consciousness returned.

"...How ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠long was I out? Two days? Three?"

"Oh, uh, quite a nap..."

Expected days out. Association med bay's recovery is insane.

"But who badmouthed me while asleep? Ears itching."

Baldy? Oh, Chairman uncle.

"What'd he say?"

Mom detailed it all. My reaction?

"Eww. Cringe."

Shame as hairless as him? 'World-needed talent'... I'd hide in a hole hearing it.

And that mana circuit awe...

'All thanks to the Soul Core.'

Didn't forget amid poison hell. Circuits tripled instantly.

But...

'Emptied a Mana Pack?'

Even I was shocked. Means stat growth expanded circuits too...

'How much did stats rise?'

No time post-clear. Near death.

"Time to leisurely check levels?"

Heart pounding, I opened status.

"...What the hell is this bullshit?!"

A curse burst from my lips.